Bedell, William

, bishop of Kilmore in Ireland, and
one of the most pious and exemplary prelates of the seventeenth century, was descended from a good family, and
born in the year 1570, at Black Notley in Essex, and being designed for the church, was sent to Emanuel college
in Cambridge, where he was matriculated pensioner, March
12, 1584. He was placed under the care of Dr. Cbadderton, who was for many years head of that house, made
great progress in his studies, and went early into holy
orders. In 1593 he was chosen fellow of his college, and
in 1599 took his degree of bachelor in divinity. He then
removed from the university to St. Ednmndsbury in Suffolk, where he had a church, aud by an assiduous application to the duties of his function, was much noticed by
many gentlemen who lived near that place. He continued
there for some years, till an opportunity offered of his
going as chaplain with sir Henry Wotton, whom king James
had appointed his ambassador to the state of Venice, about
the year 1604. While he resided in that city, he became
intimately acquainted with the famous father Paul Sarpi,
who took him into his confidence, taught him the Italian
language, of which he became a perfect master, and translated into that tongue the English Common Prayer Book,
which was extremely well received by many of the clergy
there, especially by the seven divines appointed by the
republic to preach against the pope, during the time of
the interdict, and which they intended for their model, in
case they had broken absolutely with Rome, which was
| what they then sincerely desired. In return for the favours he received from father Paul, Mr. Bedell drew up
an English grammar for his use, and in many other respects assisted him in his studies. He continued eight
years in Venice, during which time he greatly improved
himself in the Hebrew language, by the assistance of the
famous rabbi Leo, who taught him the Jewish pronunciation, and other parts of rabbinical learning; and by his
means it was that he purchased a very fair manuscript of
the Old Testament, which he bequeathed, as a mark of
respect, to Emanuel-college, and which, it is said, cost
him its weight in silver. He became acquainted there
likewise, with the celebrated Antonio de Dominis, archbishop of Spalata, who was so well pleased with his conversation, that he communicated to him his secret, and
shewed him his famous book “de Kepublica Ecclesiastica,”
which he afterwards printed at London. The original ms.
is, if we mistake not, among bishop Tanner’s collections
in the Bodleian. Bedell took the freedom which he allowed him, and corrected many misapplications of texts
of scripture, and quotations of fathers; for that prelate,
being utterly ignorant of the Greek tongue, committed
many mistakes, both in the one and the other; and some
escaped Bedell’s diligence. De Dorninis took all this in
good part from him, and entered into such familiarity with
him, and found liis assistance so useful, and indeed so necessary to himself, that he used to say, he could do nothing
without him. At Mr. Bedell’s departure from Venice,
father Paul expressed great concern, and assured him, that
himself and many others would most willingly have accompanied him, if it had been in their power. He, likewise,
gave him his picture, a HebrewBible without points, and
a small Hebrew Psalter, in which he wrote some sentences
expressing the sincerity of his friendship. He gave him,
also, the manuscript of his famous “History of the Council of Trent,” with the Histories of the Interdict and Inquisition, all written by himself, with a large collection of
letters, which were written to him weekly from Rome,
during the dispute between the Jesuits and Dominicans,
concerning the efficacy of grace, which it is supposed are
lost. On his return to England, he immediately retired
to his charge at St. Edmundsbury, without aspiring to any
preferment, and went on in his ministerial labours. It was
here he employed himself in translating the Histories of
| the Interdict and Inquisition (which he dedicated to the king); as also the two last books of the History of the
Council of Trent into Latin, sir Adam Newton having
translated the two first. At this time, he mixed so seldom
with the world, that he was almost totally forgotten. So
little was he remembered, that, some years after, when the
celebrated Diodati, of Geneva, came over to England, he
could not, though acquainted with many of the clergy, hear
of Mr. Bedell from any person with whom he happened to
converse. Diodati was greatly amazed, that so extraordinary a man, who was so much admired at Venice by the
best judges of merit, should not be known in his own country; and he had given up all hopes of finding him out,
when, to their no small joy, they accidentally met each
other in the streets of London. Upon this occasion, Diodati presented his friend to Morton, the learned and ancient bishop of Durham, and told him how highly he had
been valued by father Paul, which engaged the bishop to
treat Mr. Bedell with very particular respect. At length
sir Thomas Jermyn taking notice of his abilities, presented
him to the living of Horingsheath, A. D. 1615: but he
found difficulties in obtaining institution and induction from
Dr. Jegon, bishop of Norwich, who demanded large fees
upon this account. Mr. Bedell was so nice in his sentiments
of simony, that he looked upon every payment as such,
beyond a competent gratification, for the writing, the wax,
and the parchment; and, refusing to take out his title
upon other terms, left the bishop and went home, but in a
few days the bishop sent for him, and gave him his title
without fees, and he removed to Horingsheath, where he
continued unnoticed twelve years, although he gave a singular evidence of his great capacity, in a book of controversy with the church of Rome, which he published and
dedicated to king CharlesI. then prince of Wales, in 1624.
It is now annexed to Burnet’s Life of our author". However neglected he lived in England, yet his fame had reached
Ireland, and he was, in 1627, unanimously elected provost
of Trinity-college in Dublin, but this he declined, until
the king laid his positive commands on him, which he
obeyed, and on August 16th of that year, he was sworn
provost. At his first entrance upon this scene, he resolved
to act nothing until he became perfectly acquainted with
the statutes of the house, and the tempers of the people
whom he was appointed to govern; and, therefore,
|
carTied himself so abstractedly from all affairs, that he passed
some time for a soft and weak man, and even primate
Usher began to waver in his opinion of him. When he
went to England some few months after, to bring over his
family, he had thoughts of resigning his new preferment,
and returning to his benefice in Suffolk: but an encouraging letter from primate Usher prevented him, and he
applied himself to the government of the college, with
a vigour of mind peculiar to him.

His first business was to compose divisions among the
fellows, to rectify disorders, and to restore discipline; and
as he was a great promoter of religion, he catechised the
youth once a week, and divided the church catechism into
fifty -two parts, one for every Sunday, and explained it in a
way so mixed with speculative and practical matters, that
his sermons were looked upon as lectures of divinity. He
continued about two years in this employment, when, by
the interest of sir Thomas Jermyn, and the application of
Laud, bishop of London, he was advanced to the sees of
Kilmore and Ardagh, and consecrated on the 13th of September, 1629, at Drogheda, in St. Peter’s church, in the
fifty-ninth year of his age. In the letters for his promotion, the king made honourable mention of the satisfaction
he took in the services he had done, and the reformation he
had wrought in the unirersity. He found his dioceses
tinder vast disorders, the revenues wasted by excessive dilapidations, and all things exposed to sale in a sordid manner. The cathedral of Ardagh, and the bishop’s houses,
were all flat to the ground, the parish churches in ruins, and
the insolence of the Popish clergy insufferable; the oppressions of the ecclesiastical courts excessive; and pluralities and non-residence shamefully prevailing. Yet he had
the courage, notwithstanding these difficulties, to undertake a thorough reformation; and the first step he took
was, to recover part of the lands of which his sees had been
despoiled by his predecessors, that he might be in a condition to subsist, while he laboured to reform other abuses.
In this he met with such success, as encouraged him to
proceed upon his own plan, and to be content with nothing
less than an absolute reformation of those which he esteemed
capital and enormous abuses, particularly with regard to
pluralities, showing an example in his own case by resigning the bishopric of Ardagh, which he had the satisfaction to see followed in instances of a more flagrant
| nature. On the arrival of the lord-deputy Wentworth
in 1633, our prelate had the misfortune to fall under
his displeasure, for setting his hand to a petition for redress of grievances and so high and open was the lorddeputy’s testimony of this displeasure, that the bishop
did not think fit to go in person to congratulate him (as others did) upon his entering into his government. It
is, however, very improbable, that he should write over to
sir Thomas Jermyn and his friends in England, or procure,
by their interest, injunctions to the lord-deputy, to receive
him into favour, a report which suits very ill with the character either of the men or of the times. On the contrary,
it appears from his own letter to the lord deputy, that it
was he, not the bishop, who had complained in England;
that he meant to justify himself to the deputy, and expected, on that justification, he should retract his complaints.
One may safely affirm, from the perusal of this single
epistle, that our prelate was as thorough a statesman as the
deputy, and that he knew how to becurne all things to all
men, without doing any thing beneath him, or inconsistent
with his dignity. This conduct had its effect, and in three
weeks it appears that he stood well with the deputy, and
probably without any interposition but his own letter before
mentioned. He then went on cheerfully in doing his duty,
and for the benefit of the church, and was very successful.
His own example did much: he loved the Christian power
of a bishop, without affecting either political authority or
pomp. Whatever he did was so visibly for the good of his
fiock, that he seldom failed of being well supported by his
clergy; and such as opposed him did it with visible reluctance, for he had the esteem of the good men of all parties,
and was as much reverenced as any bishop in Ireland. In
1638 he convened a synod, and made some excellent canons that are yet extant, and when offence was taken at
this, the legality of the meeting questioned, and the bishop
even threatened with the star-chamber, archbishop Usher,
who was consulted, said, “You had better let him alone,
for fear, if he should be provoked, he should say much
more for himself than any of his accusers can say against
him.” Amongst other extraordinary things he did, there
was none more worthy of remembrance than his removing
his lay-chancellor, sitting in his own courts, hearing causes,
and retrieving thereby the jurisdiction which anciently belonged to a bishop. The chancellor upon this filed his bill
| in equity, and obtained a decree in chancery against the
bishop, with one hundred pounds costs. But by this time
the chancellor saw so visibly the difference between the
bishop’s sitting in that seat and his own, that he never
called for his costs, but appointed a surrogate, with orders
to obey the bishop in every thing, and so his lordship went
on in his own way. Our bishop was no persecutor of Papists, and yet the most successful enemy they ever had;
and if the other bishops had followed his example, the Protestant religion must have spread itself through every part
of the country. He laboured to convert the better sort of
the Popish clergy, and in this he had great success. He
procured the Common-prayer, which had been translated
into Irish, and caused it to be read in his cathedral, in his
own presence, every Sunday, having himself learned that
language perfectly, though he never attempted to speak it.
The New Testament had been also translated by William.
Daniel, archbishop of Tuam, but our prelate first procured
the Old Testament to be translated by one King; and because the translator was ignorant of the original tongues,
and did it from the English, the bishop himself revised and
compared it with the Hebrew, and the best translations,
He caused, likewise, some of Chrysostom’s and Leo’s homilies, in commendation of the scriptures, to be rendered
both into English and Irish, that the common people might
see, that in the opinion of the ancient fathers, they had not
only a right to read the scriptures as well as the clergy, but
it was their duty so to do. He met with great opposition
in this work, from a persecution against the translator,
raised without reason, and carried on with much passion by
those from whom he had no cause to expect it. But, however, he got the translation finished, which he would have
printed in his own house, and at his own charge, if the
troubles in Ireland had not prevented it; and as it was, his
labours were not useless, for the translation escaped the
hands of the rebels, and was afterwards printed at the expence of the celebrated Robert Boyle.

The bishop was very moderate in his sentiments, and in.
his methods of enforcing them; he loved to bring men into
the communion of the church of England, but he did not
like compelling them; and it was his opinion, that Protestants would agree well enough if they could be brought to
understand each other. These principles induced him to
promote Mr. Drury’s design, of endeavouring to reconcile
| the Lutherans to the Calvinists, a project which had beea
encouraged by many other worthy persons, and towards
which he subscribed twenty pounds a year, to defray the
expences of Mr. Drury’s negociations. The bishop himself, it must be mentioned, was a Calvinist, which Burnet
thinks was the cause of his having so little preferment in
England. He gave another instance, not only of his charity towards, but his ability in, reconciling those of other
communions, to the churches of England and Ireland.
There were some Lutherans at Dublin, who, for not coming to church and taking the sacrament, were cited into the
archbishop’s consistory, upon which they desired time to
write to their divines in Germany, which was given them,
and when their answers came, they contained some exceptions to the doctrine of the church, as not explaining the
presence of Christ in the sacrament, suitable to their sentiments; to which bishop Bedell gave so full and clear, and
withal so moderate and charitable, an answer, as entirely
satisfied their objections, insomuch that those divines advised their countrymen to join in communion with the
church, which they accordingly did. In this mild and prudent way our prelate conducted his charge, with great reputation to himself, and with the general approbation of all
good men, who were perfectly pleased with his doctrine,
and edified by his example. When the bloody rebellion
broke out in October 1641, the bishop did not at first feel
the violence of its effects; for even those rebels, who in
their conduct testified so little of humanity, professed a
great veneration for him, and openly declared he should be
the last Englishman they would drive out of Ireland. His
was the only English house in the county of Cavan that was
unviolated, notwithstanding that it, and its out-buildings,
the church, and the church-yard, were filled with people
who fled to him for shelter, whom, by his preaching and
prayers, he encouraged to expect and endure the worst
with patience. In the mean time, Dr. Swiney, the Popish
titular bishop of Kilmore, came to Cavan, and pretended
great concern and kindness for bishop Bedell. Our prelate had converted his brother, and kept him in his house
till he could otherwise provide for him; and Dr. Swiney
desired likewise to lodge in his house, assuring him in the
strongest terms of his protection. But this bishop Bedell
declined, in a very civil and well-written Latin letter, urging the smallness of his house, the great number of people
| that had taken shelter with him, the sickness of some of his
company, and of his son in particular, but above all, the
difference in their ways of worship, which could not but be
attended with great inconveniency. This had some effect
for a time; but about the middle of December, the rebels,
pursuant, to orders they had received from their council of
state at Kilkenny, required him to dismiss the people that
were with him, which he absolutely refused to do, declaring that he would share the same fate with the rest. They
signified to him upon this, that they had orders to remove
him; to which he answered, in the words of David, “Here
I am, the Lord do unto me as seemeth good to him; the
will of the Lord be done.” Upon this they seized him, his
two sons, and Mr. Clogy, who had married his step-daughter, and carried them prisoners to the castle of Cloughboughter, surrounded by a deep water, were they put
them all but the bishop in irons. They did not suffer any
of them to carry any thing with them; and the moment the
bishop was gone, Dr. Swiney took possession of his house
and all that belonged to it, and said mass in the church the
Sunday following. After some time the rebels abated of
their severity, took the irons off the prisoners, and suffered
them to be as much at their ease as they could be in so
wretched a place; for the winter was very rigorous, and
the castle being old and ruinous, they would have been exposed to all the severity of the weather, if it had not been
for an honest carpenter who was imprisoned there before
them, and who made use of a few old boards he found there,
to mend a part of the roof, the better to defend them from
the snow and sleet. While thus confined, the bishop, his
sons, and Mr Clogy, preached and prayed continually to
their small and afflicted congregation, and upon Christmas
day his lordship administered the sacrament to them. It is
very remarkable, that.rude and barbarous as the Irish were,
they gave them no disturbance in the performance of divine
service, and often told the bishop they had no personal
quarrel to him, but that the sole cause of their confining
him was, his being an Englishman. After being kept in
this manner for three weeks, the bishop, his two sons, and
Mr. Clogy, were exchanged for two of the O’Rourkes; but
though it was agreed that they should be safely conducted
to Dublin, yet the rebels would never suffer them to be
carried out of the country, but sent them to the house of
Dennis Sheridan, an Irish minister, and convert to the
| Protestant religion, to which though he steadily adhered,
and relieved many who fled to him for protection, yet the
Irish suffered him to live quietly among them, on account
of the great family from which he was descended. While
our prelate remained there, and enjoyed some degree of
health, he every Sunday read the prayers and lessons, and
preached himself, though there were three ministers with
him. The last Sunday he officiated was the 30th of Jan.
and the day following he was taken ill. On the second day
it appeared that his disease was an ague; and on the fourth,
apprehending a speedy change, he called for his sons and
his sons’ wives, spoke to them a considerable time, gave
them much spiritual advice, and blessed them, after which
he spoke little, but slumbered out most of his time, only
by intervals he seemed to awake a little, and was then very
cheerful. At length, on the 7th of February, 1641, about
midnight, he breathed his last, in the seventy-first year of
his age, his death being chiefly occasioned by his late imprisonment, and the weight of sorrows which lay upon his
mind. The only care now remaining to his friends was, to
see him buried according to his desire; and since that
could not be obtained but by the new intruding bishop’s
leave, Mr. Clogy and Mr. Sheridan went to ask it, and Mr.
Dillon was prevailed with by his wife, to go and second
their desire. They found the bishop in a state of beastly
intoxication, and a melancholy change in that house, which
was before a house of prayer. The bishop, when he was
awakened out of his drunkenness, excepted a little to their
request, and said the church-yard was holy ground, and
was no more to be defiled with heretics’ bodies; yet he
consented to it at last. Accordingly, FebruaryL>, he was
buried next his wife’s coffin. The Irish did him unusual
honours at his burial, for the chief of the rebels gathered
their forces together, and with them accompanied his body
from Mr. Sheridan’s house to the church-yard of Kilmore in
great solemnity, and they desired Mr. Clogy to bury him
according to the office prescribed by the church. But
though the gentlemen were so civil as to offer it, yet it was
not thought advisable to provoke the rabble so much, as
perhaps that might have done; so it was passed over. But
the Irish discharged a volley of shot at his interment, and
cried out in Latin, “Requiescat in pace ultimus Anglorum,” ‘ May the last of the English rest in peace;’ for
they had often said, that as they esteemed him the best of
| the English bishops, so he should be the last that should be
left among them. What came from Edmund Farilly, a Popish priest, at the interment of the bishop, is too remarkable, and is too well attested, to be passed over, who cried
out, “O sit anima mea cum Bedello,” ‘ I would to God
my soul were with Bedell’s.’ Our prelate had long before
prepared for death, as appears by his will, dated the 15th of
February, 1640, in which there are several legacies, that
shew he had recollected all the memorable passages of his
life before he made it, and seriously considered the several
blessings which God had bestowed upon him. He married
a lady of the ancient and honourable family of L‘Estrange,
who was the widow of the recorder of St. Edmundsbury, a
woman exemplary in her life, humble and modest in her
behaviour, and singular in many excellent qualities, particularly in an extraordinary reverence to him. She bore
him three sons and a daughter. One of the sons and the
daughter died young; only William and Ambrose survived,
for whom he made no provision, but a benefice of eighty
pounds a-year for the eldest and worthy son of such a father, and an estate of sixty pounds a-year for the youngest,
who did not take to learning. This was the only purchase
he made. His wife died three years before the rebellion
broke out, and he preached her funeral sermon himself,
with such a mixture both of tenderness and moderation,
that he drew tears from all his auditors. He was an enemy
to burying in the church, thinking that there was both superstition and pride in it, and believing it was a great annoyance to the living, to have so much of the steam of dead
bodies rising about them. One of the canons in his synod
was against burying in churches, and he often wished that
burying’ places were removed out of all towns. He chose
the least frequented place of the church-yard of Kilmore
for his wife to lie in, and by his will ordered, that he should
be placed next to her, with this inscription:

“Depositum Gulielmi quondam Episcopi Kilmorensis.”

The character given of this amiable prelate in Burnet’s
life, drawn up partly by Burnet, and partly by his son-inlaw Mr. Clogy, is highly interesting. BishopBedell was
tall and graceful, and had something in his looks and carriage that created a veneration for him. His deportment
was grave without affectation; his apparel decent with
simplicity he wore no silks, but plain stuffs and had a
| long and broad beard, and grey and venerable hair. His
strength continued firm to the last, so that the week before
his last sickness, he walked as vigorously ad nimbly as any
of the company, and leaped over a broad ditch, insomuch
that his sons, who were amazed at it, had enough to do to
follow him. He never used spectacles. By a fall in his
childhood he had unhappily contracted a deafness in his
left ear. He had great strength and health of body, excepting that a few years before his death he had some severe fits of the stone, occasioned by his sedentary life,
which he bore with wonderful patience. The remedy he
used for it was to dig in the garden (in which he much delighted) until he heated himself, and that mitigated the
pain. His judgment and memory remained with him to
the last. He always preached without notes, but often
wrote down his meditations after he had preached them.
He shewed no other learning in his sermons but in clearing
the difficulties of his text, by comparing the originals with
the most ancient versions.

His style was clear and full, but plain and simple. He
read the Hebrew and Septuagint so much, that they were
as familiar to him as the English translation. He had
gathered a vast heap of critical expositions, which, with
a trunk full of other manuscripts, fell into the hands of the
Irish, and were all lost, except his great Hebrew manuscript, which was preserved by a converted Irishman, and
is now in Emanuel college, in Cambridge. Every day
after dinner and supper a chapter of the Bible was read at
his table, whether Papists or Protestants were present;
and Bibles were laid before every one of the company, and
before himself either the Hebrew or the Greek, but in his
last years, the Irish translation; and he usually explained ­the occurring difficulties. He wrote much in controversy,
occasioned by his engagements to labour the conversion of
those of the Roman communion, which he looked on as
idolatrous and antichristian. He wrote a large treatise on
these two questions: “Where was our religion before
Luther? And what became of our ancestors who died in Popery?” Archbishop Usher pressed him to have printed it,
and he resolved to have done so; but that and all his other
works were swallowed up in the rebellion. He kept a
great correspondence not only with the divines of England, but with others over Europe. He observed a true
hospitality in house-keeping j and many poor Irish families
| about him were maintained out of his kitchen; and in
Christmas the poor always eat with him at his own table,
and he had brought himself to endure both their rags and
rudeness. At public tables he usually sat silent. Once
at the earl of Strafford’s table, one observed, that while
they were all talking, he said nothing. The primate answered, “Broach him, and you will find good liquor in
him.” Upon which the person proposed a question in
divinity, in answering which the bishop shewed his abilities
so well, and puzzled the other so much, that all, at last,
except the bishop, fell a laughing at the other. The
greatness of his mind, and undauntedness of his spirit,
evidently appeared in many passages of his life, and that
without any mixture of pride, for he lived with his clergy
as if they had been his brethren. In his visitation he would
accept of no invitation from the gentlemen of the country,
but would eat with his clergy in such poor inns, and of
such coarse fare, as the places afforded. He avoided all
affectation of state in his carriage, and, when in Dublin,
always walked on foot, attended by one servant, except
on public occasions, which obliged him to ride in procession among his brethren. He never kept a coach, his
strength suffering him always to ride on horseback. He
avoided the affectation of humility as well as pride; the
former often flowing from the greater pride of the two.
He took an ingenious device to put him in mind of his
obligations to purity: it was a flaming crucible, with this
motto: “Take from me all my Tin,” the word in Hebrew
signifying Tin, being Bedil, which imported that he thought
every thing in him but base alloy, and therefore prayed
God would cleanse him from it. He never thought of
changing his see, but considered himself as under a tie to
it that could not easily be dissolved; so that when the
translating him to a bishopric in England was proposed to
him, he refused it; and said, he should be as troublesome
a bishop in England as he had been in Ireland. He had
a true and generous notion of religion, and did not look
upon it as a system of opinions, or a set of forms, but as a
divine discipline that reforms the heart and life. It was
not leaves, but fruit that he sought. This was the true
principle of his great zeal against Popery. He considered
the corruptions of that church as an effectual course to
enervate the true design of Christianity. He looked on
| the obligation of observing the Sabbath as moral and perpetual, and was most exact in the observation of it. 1

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